Shades of Earth by Beth Revis

looks deep in thought for a second, but then Chris interjects. “The negative ramifications of confining the ship’s crew and our own to the shuttle for an indeterminate amount of time, with limited food and water and without any restrooms, will be a bigger threat than anything the planet could plausibly present. I can assure you, sir, that the biggest danger lies in trapping everyone in the shuttle, not evacuating it.”
    Dad whirls around. He’s heard enough. “Chris, Emma, get the evacuation started
now
. Everyone—every single person—must leave the shuttle.
Immediately.
All military is to aid with evacuation, then pick up as many weapons as they can carry on the way out.”
    The computer adds, “Fourteen minutes, thirty seconds.”
    â€œHurry!”
Dad shouts.
    â€œI’ll try to buy us more time,” Elder says, turning back to the computer.
    I want to help him somehow, but I know I’d just get in the way. Instead, I race after Emma. The military is already up and waiting for orders. As soon as Emma tells them what to do, they scatter, pulling people into the hallway and ordering them to the outside door. The people from the ship near the hallway are the first to go—too surprised to object, I think. The scientists try to bring their equipment with them.
    I run over to Mom. “There’s no time,” I say, pulling the microscope out of her hand. Honestly, a microscope?
    â€œAmy, what’s going on?” she asks impatiently, as if this were all a prank that I orchestrated. The alarm pauses while the computer announces, “Thirteen minutes before lockdown.”
    â€œWe have to
go
. Now!” I say.
    â€œWhy?” Mom picks the microscope back up.
    â€œThe doors are going to seal!” I shout as the alarm resumes. “You’ll be trapped inside!”
    Mom blanches. “For how long?”
    â€œI don’t know!”
    Mom finally gets the message. She drops the microscope on the table and starts pushing the other scientists toward the hall. The door has seal locks, strong enough to keep out the vacuum of space. We’re stuck on a planet with only the possessions we carry—if that door locks and the computer malfunctions, there’s nothing we can do to open it again.
    The shuttle will become a tomb.
    â€œGo! Go! Go!” Emma screams at the group of shipborns clinging to the wall. I race over.
    â€œWe have to go!” I shout.
    They look at me, confused. They’re willing to listen to me before Emma—I’m not one of them, but they know me at least, and trust me . . . sort of. But they don’t understand that the shuttle’s turning against them; they see it as their only source of protection.
    â€œGo to Elder—he’s just outside, you have to get out!” Something in what I say must penetrate—they follow the scientists already evacuating toward the door.
    Once some people begin to leave, others follow. Emma and the military have resorted to physically picking people up and throwing them toward the hallway. No one’s moving fast enough.
    The alarms dim as the computer says, “Eight minutes and counting.”
    We’re never going to get out in time. There are too many people too scared to move. Too scared to leave.
    Kit grabs me. “Tell Elder that these people are staying!” she shouts.
    â€œWhat? They can’t!”
    â€œThey’re not leaving!” Kit says. “They’re petrified! It will take weeks before they’re ready to leave the shuttle!”
    â€œThey
have
to go!” I scream at her as the alarm blares incessantly. “If they don’t, they might not
ever
get out! The shuttle will trap them inside!”
    Chris, Emma, and a few more of the military approach the group that is backed against the wall. Their eyes are terrified, open wide and flashing white as their gazes dart left to right. A woman close to me has her back